


Sombra & Co. Ficlets

by Coyacoonadillo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, a bunch of mostly unrelated ficlets, all involving sombra
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-29 04:30:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11433201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coyacoonadillo/pseuds/Coyacoonadillo
Summary: Sombra meets everyone with mixed results.





	Sombra & Co. Ficlets

After the Volskaya incident, Sombra had seen her bounty nearly double. Of course, her new friend’s name wasn’t attached to any of the offers, but her money was definitely behind it.

 

On short leave from Talon, she had time to check her safehouses. Check their security, their food storage, maybe update the decor. Florals were making a comeback, she just knew it. One of her houses had raised Talon suspicions, as she noticed while sifting through data that wasn’t necessarily hers. It hadn’t registered as connected to  _ her _ yet, but for all intents and purposes, she considered this safehouse compromised. Making it the perfect place to arrange a meeting with a friend of a friend. 

 

A certain pink Olympian had consistently pinged Sombra’s surveillance recently. It seemed raising the bounty wasn’t enough for Sra. Volskaya, although her friend hadn’t yet decided that doing a job right means doing it yourself. Apparently doing a job right means siccing an Olympian-turned-war hero on her ass. Whatever, she shouldn’t be hard to throw off. 

 

Another ping on her surveillance. She looked up and checked again to be sure her translocator was still securely resting on the rafters, then leaned back on the ragged old couch with a sigh of boredom, watching rays of sunshine from the skylight dance on the floor. Zaryanova was taking her sweet damn time, she’d only just registered on the perimeter security. 

 

After a few minutes, she heard the door creak. “ _ Finally _ , I thought you’d never come.”

 

One Alexsandra Zaryanova seemed considerably surprised, looking back and forth from the door which just opened very easily to Sombra lounging on the floral couch in the middle of the room. 

 

“I’m guessing our mutual friend sent you? I wonder if you’d still work for her if you knew what I did,” Sombra said with what she knew was a shit eating grin, tapping her temple with one electric pink nail. “It’s...Zarya, right?”

 

Zarya had recovered from her initial surprise and quickly composed herself, staring down at Sombra with undisguised disgust. “Katya is a hero to my people. I will not let you destroy what she has built.” Slamming the door behind her--  _ one escape route closed _ \-- she said, “You may come quietly. Or not. But you will come with me.”

 

Sombra laughed, ignoring the way the Olympian seemingly came armed only with a bigass unwieldy gun, her ludicrously large muscles and good looks. It felt like a trap, but the best way to treat a trick is with a trick of your own. “I wonder how long you’ve been practicing that one. Listen, I’d go with you, but I’ve got a date tonight. Maybe we can catch a movie later, yeah? I like the classics.”

 

With the door closed, Zarya approached Sombra, albeit warily. “Enough jokes, pest.” She cracked her knuckles, flexing in the process, and Sombra got a  _ much better _ idea of how strong this Zarya character was. Too strong. Obviously, strong enough to tote that person-sized gun around like a loaf of bread. 

 

Never one to miss a dramatic exit, Sombra let Zarya get closer and closer. A meter and a half away. “Hasta luego.” With a characteristic smirk, she gave a quick wave and activated her thermoptic camouflage, disappearing into a shower of pixels. 

 

Once invisible, she dove off the couch and crossed the room quickly and silently.

 

“Uh uh.” That almost stopped Sombra in her tracks. She heard a building whirr and looked back to see Zarya hefting the bigass gun up against her hip, glowing brighter and brighter.  _ Shit _ . “I said you are coming with me, so you will.” Zarya fired with a hollow  _ whoomp _ , missing Sombra’s invisible self by several meters.

 

“Ja! You  _ missed _ ,” Sombra couldn’t help but shout, but she spoke too soon. Suddenly she was ripped from where she stood and pulled into the crackling center of gravity and everything fucking  _ hurt _ . Within fractions of a second her camouflage flickered out of existence and left her without a plan and without much of an escape route.  _ Unless… _

 

With a flick of her wrist, Sombra translocated up to the rafters and breathed a short sigh of relief, looking down at a barely disoriented Zarya and snagging her translocator, before she was ripped down and into the graviton surge and its voltage again. 

 

The graviton surge faded, spent, and dropped Sombra back to the floor, stunned and with warning indicators from her cybernetics scattered across her field of vision. Before she could even scrabble back to her feet, Zarya was upon her, wrapping a huge arm around her own arms and chest. “And that is the power of attraction,” Zarya said flatly.

 

“Listen, not that I’m not attracted to you,” Sombra said from her now definitely disadvantaged position wrapped in exactly one arm, “but I’ll be free Tuesday if you want to get dinner. If you just put me down, I’ll go make reservations.”

 

“You cannot make reservations at prison cafeteria.” Sombra secured under one arm, gun hefted to her shoulder, Zarya crossed the mostly empty room back to the door. “There you will pose no threat to Russia or her people.”

 

Sombra chuckled, subtly testing how far she could reach with her arms secured in this way as the electric crackling of her augmentations died down. “Oh, chica, is that an underestimation.”

 

Zarya sighed in exasperation, stopping by the door and leaning her gun against the wall to open it with her free hand. “That is big talk, seeing how I hold you with one arm.”

 

“You say that…” This was Sombra’s chance. The gun was just barely out of reach, if it fell forward it would be perfectly accessible. Sombra swung her legs up for momentum, then kicked hard off the floor, contorting around Zarya’s arm to hit the gun with her toe, knocking it off balance and tipping it forward. 

 

“What are you--” Zarya tightened her grip around Sombra’s torso, squeezing a gasp out of the hacker, who stopped moving as if defeated. “Good escape attempt. But not good enough.” 

 

Sombra wheezed to catch a breath in the far tighter grip.  _ Hell _ , she was strong. “Well…”  _ wheeze _ “a girl’s gotta try.” The gun was in reach. Stretching her fingers, she established a connection and felt a burst of new energy. With a few quick gestures, she absolutely utterly fucked up Zarya’s obscenely large gun. “To be fair, though, you may want to get away from your gun.”

 

Taking a step back, Zarya looked quizzically down at her gun before her eyes shot wide and her grip loosened ever so slightly. The gun was glowing brighter than before, a bluish white that seared the eyes. “What have you  _ done? _ ”

 

“I made a bomb, stupid.”

 

Still holding Sombra under her arm, Zarya took several more steps backward toward the couch, the only real cover left in the room. As the glow grew unbearable to look at directly, she finally turned and dove behind the couch. 

 

In seconds, the gun exploded in the brightest light imaginable, knocking the couch back into the two women and then the back wall. Before Zarya could react further, Sombra wriggled free of her grip and stood. 

 

Without even blinking the afterburn of the explosion away, she hurled the translocator as hard as she could over the now-flaming couch in the direction of the gun’s last location and a destroyed wall. She felt a hand almost catch her ankle as she trasnlocated away. Reeling, she spared a moment to steady herself and fight the nausea that always came with repeated uses of the damned thing, and also spared a squinting glance back toward Zarya.

 

Her vision was shot to shit, but she could still make out Zarya standing, clenching her fists with nothing to shoot, throw, grab, or crush. Must suck to not be highly mobile.

 

With another shit-eating grin and wave, Sombra shouted, “Do svidanya, Zaryanova!” Then, fading back into invisibility with her thermoptic camouflage, she ran off into the night. What a hell of a way to decommission a compromised safehouse.

**Author's Note:**

> no beta read just right. Please see this post if you have a suggestion or prompt! http://coyacoonadillo.tumblr.com/post/162698202370/overwatch-ficlets


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